Don't speak to me when i'm eating breakfast

The moon is in my eye

Sonic moons

Clothing the olde in neue-ness. Soon to be available for purchase at a coffee shoppe near some.

Portraits of people and things

Paper pile

There's a neue sheriff in town keeping an eye on the higgins. Keep it copacetic, y'all.

Coffee + Zimmy = Thank you

Labor daze

Be free, kids.

Taming the doctor

Sleep (or the lack thereof)

Baby jane loves her books. Baby jane can't read yet. That doesn't stop baby jane from reading all day long. Baby jane reads until she falls asleep with her face buried deep in a book (often about fairies).

Meanwhile, daddy gets less-than-adequate sleep. Daddy also allows himself to get deeply invested in emotionally draining situations that lead to major life transitions. What will daddy do now? Stay tuned to find out.

Chai me a river

Here's an art project created in collaboration with kip during another rainless afternoon.

Product placement

After a well-placed jaunt to st. louis with the janes and the doctor, we arrive home to boxes of apparel intended for printing upon. Many will be distributed to clients; Some will become homes for dudes like the one being awakened below.

In any case, we do have our work cut out for us, indeed.

Kiddie pool

Sometimes you just gotta let the kids be kids.

Summer house

A week and some change ago, mama jane and myself swiped a free house that had been kicked to the curb right around the corner from the olde homestead. As one might imagine, baby jane was more than pleased with the quaint plastic cottage.

The good doctor is still getting used to it. He may be having a difficult time transitioning to a floor of grass and dandelions. Lighten up, my man; you'll appreciate the shaded refuge when summer hits.

Getting it together

We picked up some window blinds from the megamart along with some new shoes and broom to replace one that was lost in a battle against a giant mutant bumblebee. This is the kind of action seen around the olde homestead these days. After MJ and i took a gander at those radiant blinds, we thought we might return them in favor of a more cost effective version. I spent the better part of the rest of the morning unsuccessfully attempting to return the blinds to their original box.

We moved on to the kitchen and created a peanut butter jar filled with assorted screws, bolts, nuts, and washers. He seemed lonely so we made him a tiny baby food jar companion filled with nails. They're a mighty cute pair. We think we'll be keeping them around a while.

Whilst baby jane was down the street on a play date, the good doctor enjoyed the solitude by picking dandies in the front lawn.

Serenity now.

Remember to remember

My granddad was born on the 29th of february. He passed away a little over a month before baby jane came along. I spoke to my gramma on the phone this evening and we shared memories of the birthday boy. She recalled his last birthday four years ago. Gramma was picking him up from a senior care facility he'd been staying at briefly. The folks there had pulled out all the stops to make a big deal about his birthday, seeing as it only came around every four years. As they were loading up the car with all of granddad's belongings, they lost hold of the majestic balloon that served as a proclamation of the day's celebration. They watched that balloon disappear into the stratosphere. 

A few months later, we said goodbye to granddad.

Before ending our conversation over the phone, gramma remembered aloud how much she enjoyed watching granddad interact with little children when they'd be out shopping for groceries. She said that he was particularly comforting toward those who appeared upset or distressed. I wish he could have been around to spend time with baby jane and the good doctor. I have a feeling they would have enjoyed some lovely moments together. 

Until another time when heaven and earth become one...

One thursday afternoon

If you're going to get a job done, don't get it done alone. Have some help. My helper is Stanley. I drink his blood and it ignites my go-gettums. Thanks, Stan.

Sweet Judy Blue-eyes is always hanging around to wish us all a good day. Judy, you really know how to point a fella in the right direction. Stay positive, kid.

Nothing inspires creativity like a four foot stretch of plywood fresh off the sanding block. Baby jane urges that i change out of my better trousers lest this coat of paint gets the best of me.

Goldilocks and the Ghost of Sweet Judy Blue-eyes.

Art rock.

Portrait of a little girl and her little dog. Behold the wonder and find yourself. Now it's your turn. Go make something.

All this and blueberry pancakes

We had us a mighty fine week full of tiny visitors from near and far. For the first time in baby jane's three years, we got to celebrate her birthday with the cousins from the pacific northwest. We call them robbie and kayleigh. We spent a great deal of time running laps through gramma connie's house and being schooled on the history of lego via a first-grader.

Our tomato garden was attacked by giant mutant caterpillars who almost made baby jane their dessert. Little did they know that they were being lured to their exit.

This little guy wandered far from home and found himself knocking on our garage door for assistance. Our animal rescue unit sprang into action and gave him a wet albeit non-private room where he could recuperate. Soon after, baby jane and i returned him to his natural habitat - the retention pond behind the vacant mexican restaurant.

Baby jane and her pal trotted off, hand in hand, to their first session of ballet class. It was a raging success full of pseudo-plies and dizzying spins. Despite baby jane's concerns with having a teacher in the class with her, she warmed to the young ladies leading from up front enough to not split early.

Finally, on the morning of august 23rd, baby jane officially transformed into a three-year-old. How else do you celebrate if not by sticking a giant 3 into a short stack of blueberry pancakes and lighting it on fire?

Say what you will about us rockeys, but you can't say we don't know how to party.

Pool daze

Dr. James, you might want to watch your back. Goldilocks is creeping up behind you and she's got big plans to make your first summer swim a memorable one.

Aw shucks. She just wants to nuzzle that sweet soft baby head of yours. Well, who can argue with that?

Happy fourth, dudes and duderellas.

Photo op

Alright, go for it, daddy

Getting right down to it is the name of the game around these parts nowadays. We are presently smack dab in the middle of week two of Daddy Is The New Mommy Experiment, Part 2: The Electric Boogaloo. In other words, Mama Jane has taken an opportunity to work with some kids this school year allowing Yours Truly to spend each and every morning bonding with Baby Jane over cow milk and wonder pets. These are the days. This very morning, I asked Baby Jane if she'd like to go downstairs and have Daddy make some waffles for breakfast. Her response: "ALRIGHT! Go for it, Daddy." L-to the-O-L. For srsly, I almost fell on the floor. The kid's got more personality than I know what to do with. Thus far, we generally spend our days screen-printing, colouring, watching movies, drinking coffee, completing puzzles, shopping Goodwill, listening to 45's, reading books, and fighting sleep.

Nap time would be so much easier if only we had one of these at the house...

Ahhh, the magic of the people mover.

As previously mentioned, The Mustard Room has been in full swing. A few custom print jobs are formulating, but in the meantime we've been doing some short runs of sharks, dudes, and lions. We're also getting situated to begin some brand new recordings. The thing is, it's all about space...

Inspiration station

Magic keys

Battle axes

Shake and bake

Trapper keeper

Observation deck

Now, let's see if we can't do this again sooner than later.

Everything old is a new kind of old again

Excitement continues to build in regards to the grand hootenanny which will definitely be in full swing come the twentieth of august. We're hoping that the acreage featured in the preceding photograph will be blanketed in a diverse cross-section of america. As you will notice, our host barn sits among the stars as the moon glows majestically upon her. Expect to be nothing less than cosmically spellbound.

So, after much deliberation, the first round of painting the long-detested kitchen cabinets has been initiated. Everything old is a new kind of old again. As highlighted above, the orange faux wood finish is being exchanged for a generous crispy-clean, reflective, and all-around aesthetically superior high-gloss makeover. More on that in future times.

Also opting for a crispy-clean, reflective, high-gloss makeover...

During a possibly narcotic-induced haircut, yours truly grabbed the electric sheers from the unsuspecting barberess and maniacally watched my face fall to the floor. I warned the astonished onlookers (most notably Mama Jane and Grandma) not to get too used to the new old look. I feel totally nude and, as pointed out by my coworker Ms. Chamberlain, the ladies are taking note. I have to regrow this force-field of sexually-repellent hair quickly, lest i strike smitten one too many naive ladies.

No sleep for the sopping wet

When not sweating and sipping hot coffee whilst singing the body electric, we at A Rockey Home Companion are working hard to bring you occasional blog posts with moderately interesting content. For reals though, the dog days of summer have been kind to us by providing grab bags of opportunity for creating and being created. Our magical sanctum, The Mustard Room, has lent her walls to the cradling of some sonic playscaping as of late. Firstly, we have added #3 to the cyber 45 collection which can now be enjoyed and downloaded here. Secondly, as depicted in the above candid photo, my fellow gentlemen broncos and myself have been rendezvousing for some face-melting hi-jinks of antarctic proportions. Don't let me build it up too much, but kingdoms shall fall. Speaking of which, after months of sitting on the idea, this is happening.

All of these things and more. Then, a housefly went nuts and kept trying to land on our faces all night long. Now for a message to that housefly: Dear housefly, if you were once a friend or colleague and you were trying to get our attention so that we might help find a remedy to your altered state, then i'm sorry i beat the crap out of you and flushed you down the toilet. Seriously though, dude, there are better ways than keeping us from enjoying our sleep and forcing us to camp out on sofas. However, we shall never forget you and your legacy will live on and on...

Now, as the sun sets on another blog posting, the prophetic words once uttered by Criswell resonate in our collective consciousness: "Let us punish the guilty. Let us reward the innocent. My friend, can your heart stand the shocking facts of grave robbers from outer space?"